I See the Dead Among Us
by DEAR-KATiE-XO
Summary: Combined of three major series, Harry Potter, Twilight, and Percy Jackson. Main Characters are my own. Lemon. Mature audiences only please. This is my first, thank you!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Go away please," I whispered, "please, not right now...Dude, people already think I'm crazy"

"Tabs, please let me?"

"Jake, she's going to think it's me again!" My whispers were growing volume.

"Tabitha, is there something you'd like to say to class?" Ms. Mercer shot at me. Oddly enough, she said that with a smile. She did that a lot, tried to look happy all the time. Even if she was angry or annoyed, she still managed to plan that smile on her face. She scrunched up her 60 year old face into a creepy smile with her blonde-grey hair framing her sagging cheeks. The botox and other implants only made her appear more fake as she tried to look young. The kid with the mousy brown hair who sat in front of me turned around and asked if I was talking to my imaginary friend again. I looked at my paper and shook my head no to both of their questions. Ms. Mercer turned around to face the board and began writing. I stuck my tongue out at the mousy haired kind and he frowned.

"Sorry Tabs" I heard from next to me "I can go if you'd like…" Jake continued.

"No it's fine."

"Really, I can just walk out. I swear, no one will notice." I knew he was probably smiling right now.

"No stay, please" I begged. I didn't want to be left in class with a bunch of mean kids and a 60 year old barbie doll.

"Hmmm, you may change your mind in a few minutes." I groaned.

"You better not!" I hissed. Jake had reached into his pocket and pulled out a pink eraser he had stolen from my school bag earlier that morning. Ms. Mercer glanced at me sideways and I pretended to be taking notes on whatever she was writing.

I put my head down on the peeked sideways at Jake. He had moved across the room to stand behind Jason: the school's worst bully, who just happened to be in my english class. Jason wore too much cologne and had a permanent grimace on his face as if he was sitting in a class of rats rather than other 7th graders. I closed my eyes. I knew what I had to do. I opened my eyes just as Jake aimed and fired. The eraser hit Barbie. She spun around and faced Jason. Eyes were locked on Ms. Mercer; mouths hung open. Jake walked over and sat next to me as if nothing had happened. "You!" she bellowed and pointed a scrawny finger at Jason. Ms. Mercer took a deep breath and smiled, "You," she repeated in a calmer voice. Barbie cleared her throat. "Jason, dear, did you throw this at….at my face," she bent over and plucked the eraser off the floor, like it was a filthy sock rather than the average pink school eraser.

"No," Jason replied shaking his head back and forth, his hair swung back and forth in long greasy strands. Jason clearly confused as why he of all people would be blamed.

"Now, now. There is no lying in this class sweetheart. You wouldn't want to–" I stood up and cleared my throat. Ms. Mercer looked at me and her smile wavered. She tilted her head to the side like a pigeon. "Yes Tabitha?" Barbie asked, her voice on the verge of breaking and an octave higher than usual.

I cleared my throat again. "It was...um...it was me. I threw the eraser. At–at your head."

"Of course. You again. I should have known," Ms. Mercer was waving her hands around like a maniac Barbie doll as she spoke, "Well don't just stand there. Pack up your things, I'll write you a pass."

"Jake…" I grumbled under my breath, "you really want me to–to...erm…" Shoot, I thought. What could I say? It was hard to threaten this guy.

"What? You gonna kill me?" He grinned that wicked grin of his. What is wrong with him? I smiled to myself then frowned. What is wrong with _me_?

I shoved me notebook forcefully into my bag and threw the pencil in with it. As I headed to the door, I passed Barbie's desk to pick up my pass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake pluck the pink rectangle off of Mrs. Mercer's desk. I rolled my eyes. Seriously, when was this guy gonna learn?

 _break_

I swung open the door of the office only to see my own mother standing at the front desk, talking to Mrs. Greene. Great, I thought, my mom made it to the office before I did, but...why didn't she seem mad?

The door swished shut. Mrs. Raymond turned around. I held my breath. "Finally!" My mother exclaimed. I've been waiting almost 15 minutes for you to be sent down to the office!" She turned back to brown haired, blue eyed Mrs. Greene, "Didn't you let her teacher know she needed a pass to the office. I am sure I mentioned that this was an emergency…" She trailed off.

"Hey, Tabs," Mrs. Greene greeted me. This wasn't the first time I had come to the office to meet her with a pass. "Pass please!"

"Sure, sure," I muttered as I walked to the front desk and slipped her the pass.

"Hmmm," I heard. She toss the pass into the trash and winked at me. "Well, you guys are ready to go," Mrs. Greene smiled, "I'm sure I'll see you around, Tabitha. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Raymond." She waved to us and my mother and I walked out to the car.

As I jumped into the front seat, confused as ever, I heard someone whisper "see you at the house" and felt something brush my cheek.

 _break_

When we got to the house, I saw a flicker of movement in the curtains on the front window of my bedroom, but I ignored it. I was sure I already knew who it was.

I opened the car door, and followed my mother into the house. As I began to make my way upstairs, my mother grabbed my arm. "Not yet." She said sternly.

Damn, I thought, I was sure Mrs. Greene hadn't said anything to her.

She dragged me to the brightly lit, already yellow, kitchen and I was surprised to see two people sitting at the table: Jake and my great aunt Maura.

Obviously this wasn't a school matter, maybe a family discussion? I hoped not. "Go on, sit down," my mother urged, "don't act like you've never met your grandmother's sister before." All three chairs at the table were occupied. I looked apologetically at Jake. He sighed, got up without making a noise and offered me a seat.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"Did you say something, dear?" My great aunt asked. Dang she had good hearing for an eighty-year-old.

"No," I responded.

"Well, then let's get started."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"This is about you," Maura began, "you and your–"

"Abilities!" My mother interjected.

"–future," Maura corrected.

"Oookay…" I had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going. The yellow walls of the kitchen suddenly seemed very intimidating.

The silence seemed to stretch on for several minutes before Maura finally spoke again. "Ah, well, I might as well just give it to you straight."

She rambled on for what seemed like hours. Talking about our family history and heritage and what not. Apparently I was Italian, French, German, and something from the Middle East. How someone this old kept track of all this, I had no idea. I probably should have felt nervous when Maura mentioned "special abilities," "magic," and someplace called "Castle Rock" but I was too busy watching Jake pick nervously at my eraser. Being five years older than me at 17, I really looked up to him...sometimes. But seeing him uncomfortable like this was making my stomach churn. He _never_ acted like this...well, at least not around me.

"Well?" My mother's voice jolted me back to the conversation.

"Um, sure. Sounds great! I have a load of homework to do...do you think I could go upstairs and work on it?" My aunt and mother exchanged nervous looks. I peeked at Jake and he was busy stifling a laugh. Obviously they knew that I hadn't been listening

"I'm not sure how much of the conversation you actually heard, but I would like to know if there is anything you would like to tell your mother and me?" Ok. I don't know if it was just my little seventh grade brain, but that could mean a lot of things. First thing I thought was, Damn you, Mrs. Greene. Then I realized there was no way she would do that to me. Then I thought about the stash of candy bars I had hidden in my closet. Oh no. That _must_ be it. Shoot. I knew I should have put them under my bed instead of in my closet...but why the hell was my mom snooping around in my closet? That made me mad. It was my room, not hers.

"Er...not that I can think of," I said innocently.

"Mmhhmm," my aunt was _definitely_ not convinced. "I have a theory, Tabitha, and simply let me know if I'm wrong, but I have a feeling that wasn't the truth." Wow was she smarter than she looked. "I have another theory. Again, stop me if this sounds completely insane, but I'm going to take a guess and say that you are different than most girls your age. You, how do I put this? You–you _see_ things. Or more specifically, people." Ok, maybe she wasn't so smart. Duh I saw things. Duh I see people. What the heck does she want me to say?

Obviously I must have looked as confused as I felt, because she continued with her theories. "Ok, scratch that. Let me rephrase it this way: you see people that other people _don't_ see." Great aunt Maura seemed to be staring straight into my soul. How can she say this? The last time I saw her I was only six years old and _that_ was because my mother invited over the whole family for the funeral of my cat, Tubs.

"Tabitha," this time it was my mom speaking to me, "listen to me, honey, Maura _knows_ Tabitha. She's known about it since you were six. That's _her_ talent. Most of the time her theories are correct. We just need you to verify it." My brain felt numb and I could feel my heart furiously pumping blood to my brain. The yellow walls of the kitchen seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved in and out, inhaling and exhaling.

"Water!" I heard my great aunt scream. I watched as the room grew fussy and Jake hurriedly made his way to the sink. My mother beat him to it. She filled the glass and put it into my shaking hand.

"Thank you," I mumbled, downing the entire glass in one breath.

"What _was_ that?" My mother looked at Maura quizzingly, keeping a hand protectively resting on my shoulder.

"That will sometimes happen," she began, "when a person finally makes the connection between their gift and what they see, or the concept of it all. 'Realizing' usually happens to most people with gifts as children. Now she will see the entire world differently." She paused, "Tabitha," I looked up from my glass, " you will now be able to see all those who linger with unfinished business, however it will be very difficult to tell the difference between those who are real and those who have passed, and if they don' t want t be seen, you will not see them." This was a lot to take in. I mean, I already _knew_ I was different, but having _someone else_ actually confirming it made it ten times more real—and 50 times more scary.

When I had first met Jake, it was on Tubs' funeral day when I was six years old. He had told me not to cry because he had seen Tubs go to a better place. I wasn't scared when I saw him...at first. I mean, I was six, and this 17-year-old boy appears in my room and tells me everything will be alright, I was sure he was an angel. His light brown eyes and dark hair made his complexion seem, well, almost angelic. Until he told me he was dead. "Died in a boat crash" he had said. "They found my body, but neither of my parents bodies were ever discovered. There was a nice funeral for me, the whole high school showed up." I told him that was great, people missed him. He was loved, just like Tubs.

He told me then that it wouldn't have matter how many people came to the funeral. He still never got the chance to say goodbye. "I've been wandering California for years. Not being able to leave...I don't even know _why_." _That's_ not what scared me. Not the fact that he died, or the fact that he wasn't able to leave this damned Earth or even that his parents' bodies were never found. I was scared of not being loved. The idea that this boy had felt that he died unloved, from that point on, made death seem a lot more worse than it actually was.

"–we'll send her there as soon as school this school year ends." Apparently Maura had been talking when I took my little trip to the past.

"How does that sound, sweetheart?" My mother asked me.

"Erm…" Was my reply.

"Would you like to go to Castle Rock, where you can learn to control your abilities…" There was a long pause. My mother was wringing her hands in her lap.

My great Aunt looked at me, and then to my mother, "give her a few days to decide, Karen. Plus, I think the Realization has worn her out for the evening."

I tried to stifle a yawn but failed miserably. "That sounds like a good idea," I announced as I shot Maura a look that screamed _thank you_. I excused myself from the kitchen table and made my way back to the front of the house with Jake on my heels.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As I trudged up the stairs, I whispered, "do you think she knows? I mean—Maura—do you think she knows about you?"

Jake could speak in a normal voice because no one but me could hear him. "I think she knows that you've been seeing someone, but I doubt she knows what I even look like."

I turned left at the top of the stairs and headed down the hall to my bedroom. It was messy. Books and clothes littered the floor. A cluttered desk sat in the far right corner. Next to the door was a trinket covered dresser and on the right wall was another door that led to an even messier, fully clothed closet. Lastly, to accompany the desk and dresser, was a bed against the right wall in the far corner. It really wasn't any cleaner than the rest of the room.

I plopped myself onto the dusty brown bed covers of the bed—which really didn't match the half white and half purple walls—and watched as Jake shut my bedroom door and sat down beside me. "You know," he began, resting a hand on my thigh, "it's alright to be scared sometimes, even if it means feeling alone.'

"I know," I said, even though I had no idea where he was going with this.

"And it's ok to let people know how you feel."

I felt his hand rubbing my thigh, "I know," I repeated. "I just–my mom has been stressed out ever since dad disappeared...and I don't know how to help her. I doubt that leaving to Castle Rock will do any good and I don't know how to make my mom feel any better. My own mother! I never comfort her when she's sad, because it makes me sad...and–and I miss daddy—" I felt a tear trace a path down my cheek and before I knew it, I was crying on the only other shoulder I could find. "Jake, I'm so sorry you have to see me like this. I mean, I know it's _nothing_ compared to what you've been through, but–I'm sorry." I repeated. He began to rub my back in smooth soothing circles but I pulled away and leaned back against the wall; resisting the urge to start crying again.

"Tabitha. Stop it." He looked me straight in the eyes, "not crying is unhealthy. If you hadn't done exactly what you just did right now, I would have demanded you see a psychiatrist." And he was right. I hadn't cried like that for a long time; and it felt good to let out all my anger and sorrow.

Jake leaned up against the wall next to me. I looked him straight on and immediately felt guilty. He was looking at his hands in his lap. Jake had been so much and I was here bawling my eyes out when I wasn't even dead yet.

Then I hugged him, knocking him flat onto the bed. He hugged me back. I hadn't felt so loved before. Whenever I hugged my mom, she would pull away after a second or two, so it was more of a bump than a hug.

I moved my head down to his chest. It was so quiet in there. Eerie almost. No heart beat when there should be one is creepy. He rubbed my back and I sighed. I don't know how, but he was warm, even without the usual blood running through any living things veins. However...he wasn't living so I had no idea what happened inside a dead half-living body. I doubted anyone did.

Then Jake did something I hadn't expected him to do. He slipped his hand under the back of my shirt, still rubbing my back and keeping me calm.

I snuck a glance at his handsome face. His eyes were closed and a smile played on his lips. Woah, I told myself, _handsome face_? Where the heck had _that_ come from. I was only 13!

I shifted uncomfortably on his chest. He felt my uneasiness and his hand stopped. But once I settled back down, he begun his circular motions again...but something was different...He was still rubbing my back, but my b-cup bra strap wasn't an obstacle anymore. He had unclipped it when I moved!

I laid still, waiting to see what would happen next, but it just seemed that he found the strap uncomfortable against his soft hand and simply unhooked it. I relaxed and began to doze off.

That was a mistake. As soon as I had started to get used to the emptiness in Jake's chest, he moved his hand between my body and his so that it rested on my left breast. I didn't dare to move. I _couldn't_ move. His arm was wrapped protectively around me, his entire arm resting on my back. He readjusted himself slightly so that he could slip his other arm underneath me to begin the assault of my other breast. His arms were crossed so that his left arm cradled my left boob and his right arm massaged the right.

He removed his hands from my breasts and rolled me over so that I was facing the ceiling instead of the wall. Before I could say anything, he shoved his hands back under my shirt and sealed my words with a kiss. If you ever get the chance to kiss a ghost, do it. It tasted like–like sweet _air_ , yet he was solid as ever.

He nibbled my lip and squeezed my b-cups vigorously; something hard emerged from between his hips and started to poke my front. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn't. The other half of me wanted this—wanted to...to have _sex_. To feel what all the other 7th graders were looking forward to in adulthood.

He pulled away leaving me gasping for breath. He wasn't even breathing hard. I had momentarily forgotten that I was making out with a deceased person.

He looked me in the eyes, grinning. "Tabs," he said, his grin fading, "I–I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"What?" I asked, hurt. Why was he sorry?

"You're only 13. I–I can't do this to you. What if I hurt you? What if–if we have sex and I get you _pregnant_?

"Can you even do that?" I wondered allowed, "Like, you're...you're dead." I spoke the last word in a whisper and it hung in the air like smoke.

"I don't know Tabs, and I don't think I want to find out." He climbed off of on top of my chest and lay beside me. I could see the bulge in the front of his jeans that had been jabbing me in the crotch only a few seconds ago.

Then it clicked. I had a solution to this...obstacle. Not to long ago I had been snooping around my mom's room looking for pictures of my dad that I could steal, when I found their _stash_. It grossed me out at the time but I suppose it could save me now. But did I _really_ want to lose my virginity? Yes. But now? I didn't know. And would it even count? I mean...he's not even _alive_.

"Condoms," I said aloud.

"Yeah. Condoms would be nice," Jake looked at me. I felt all the blood in my head rush to my face.

"I mean, I know where some are...in my mother's room."

"Tabs, don't just do this because you feel like I'm making you. Because I'm not trying to make you do _anything_." Jake looked dead serious, no pun intended.

"Jake—" I started, but he cut me off.

"Tabitha! I don't want–I mean I do want to, but I don't want _you_ to! If something goes wrong, _you'll_ be the one that gets hurt! Not me!" His voice had been rising the entire time, but I was the only one in the house, maybe even in the entire world, that could hear him. "Tabs, please. If you really, _truly_ have ANY doubts,at all, you need to let me know. Now. 'Cause if something happens I can't die twice, but you're still living. You can."

That changed everything. It's so hard to decide on something when all the negative views are thrown at you.

"Tabitha!" I heard my mother call. It was almost 6:30. "Dinner!" As she said that, I could feel the hunger growling in agreement.

"Tabitha, I don't want you to think I'm mad at you. I'm not. I–I love you. I really do. But again," his voice cracked, "I don't want to hurt you. I can't stand to lose another person I love. I can't stand to see you get hurt."

I could feel over 20 different feeling bubbling inside me. This guy _actually_ loved me. He cared for me like nobody ever had. Yet he didn't want me. He didn't want to make love to me. To feel my body, to enjoy every last taste of it.

"Right now, you have to eat dinner. Think about it ok? I want you to choose what is best for _you_." Jake disappeared, had left the room smelling like the ocean—where he died—and his own personal musky scent behind.

 _small break_

As I nibbled at my cold pasta, I thought about what Jake had said. He was right. It was dangerous to do this...but _he_ started it. I glanced outside. Through the kitchen window, I could almost see our entire backyard, which was overgrown with lilacs, grass, and various weeds. The peach tree was budding and our potato bush (a tree small tree with purple flowers) was in full bloom. It was beautiful, just to look at it. I didn't need to climb up inside it's branches to experience it's beauty.

 _That_ would be my answer. I just wanted to look at Jake. Touch him. I didn't need to do the full package. I smiled, stood up, dumped my nasty pasta in the trash, and rinsed off my dishes.

 _Small break_

Jake was waiting for me on my bed. His shirt was off and when I came in—and when he propped himself up on his elbows and I could see his chiseled abs ripple. "I've made my decision," I announced, unable to take my eyes off his glorious chest.

"And…" Jake said.

"Well," I began. I didn't know how to start. "Um, well, I _don't_ want to have sex. I mean–I do, just not yet...but eventually," I added hopefully, "like when I'm older...or just when we're both ready, whichever comes first."

"Ohhhkay...Does that mean you just want to watch a movie tonight or something?"

"No." I did want to watch a movie with him, one that would make us both laugh and fill up the emptiness in my heart, but, "I was thinking, that maybe, we could just...make out? Not like get _too_ physical but maybe…" I could hear my heart pounding furiously in my chest and I was sure he could hear it too, "...maybe," I continued, "just _touch_ each other. _Look_ at each other."

I couldn't read his expression. And honestly, I was scared. What if he freaked out and yelled No! and disappeared forever? What if–if he stopped loving me?

"I think," he began, "that's a _great_ idea."

At first I was shocked, "Really? You–you really want to...to let me see you? You want to see _me_?" That was what shocked me. He wanted to touch me, to know all my imperfections.

"Of course, Tabs. The only reason I didn't want to have sex with you was because I love you and I don't want to see you get hurt." This made my heart soar, but it got stuck in my throat when I heard my mother call for me.

I raced down stairs, tripping over my own feet and stopped at the foot of the stairs and faced my mom. "Yes?" I asked. I just wanted to get back upstairs to my Jake waiting for me.

"It's your night to do the dishes, Tabitha. And I'd like you to be upstairs and in your room ready for bed at 8:00."

"Why can't great aunt Maura do the dishes?" I compained.

"Tabitha!" My mother caught me off guard, and I shrunk back. She never _ever_ raises her voice. "Tabs, please. Maura is our _guest_. We don't make our guests do our chores."

"Sorry," I responded shyly. "I'll get the dishes done by 7:50."

Which I hoped I could do because it was almost 7:30. I followed my mother into the kitchen and she went through to the living room.

The dishes were piled pretty high. I scooted around the island in the center of the kitchen and stared at the heapin the sink. How was I ever supposed to get this done? I picked up a glass lying on the top of the pile. It almost fell to it's death when felt the warm arms wrap around my waist.

"Woah," Jake said and caught the glass in mid fall, "it's just me."

Just you, I thought. Yeah. That's all. He's only, like, the love of my life...who also happens to be dead. No big deal.

Jake jolted me out of my sarcastic thoughts, "I can help with those. They won't be able to see me."

"I know," I agreed, "but what if they see the floating plates?...Wait. When you touch something, does it disappear?" I had been wondering this for a while.

"I don't know, you tell me," and he disappeared. However, the plate was still there, hovering in the air.

"Yeah...um they'll think I've got more powers than I'm letting on," I laughed. It felt good.

"Well, they're kind of busy chatting at the moment," he waved his hand at the women chatting away on the couch.

"Yeah, I suppose," and we spent the next 15 minutes scrubbing dishes.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

We had gotten back upstairs at roughly 7:55. My hands smelled like lemon and peach Bellini soap. It wasn't ever 8:00 and I was already tired. Jake noticed.  
"Maybe we should skip tonight..."  
"No!" I protested, but I could already feel my eyelids drooping. I held on to the doorframe for support.  
"Woah!" I heard Jake say as I felt his muscular arms prevent my face plant. He slung me over his shoulder and set me down on the bed.  
"Water," I gasped.  
Jake rushed to the bathroom down the hall.  
He came back a few seconds later with a full glass. "Thank you," I managed, before inhaling the entire glass. "I'm sorry...I'm not quite sure what happened."  
"No need to be sorry," my prince responded, "things like this will actually start happening more often, you'll just have to learn to control it."

"Can we still—"  
"Only if you want to."  
"I want—" but my words were cut off by Jake's lips crushing mine. Warmth flooded through my body. My mouth tingled as he sucked and nibbled on my bottom lip. I let out a sigh. He tasted so sweet, it was magical.  
He slipped his hands beneath my shirt and broke our kiss to pull it over my head, but immediately resumed when it was on the floor.  
I wrung my hands in his hair and his kisses moved down my neck. He sucked my sweet spot above my collarbone and I let out a squeal. This was going to leave a mark. What did the other kids call them? Hickies. That's it.  
His hands moved against my skin, down to my hips, and back to my breasts. He played with my nipples. Twisting them and flicking them in a way that sent shivers down to my feet.  
His lips playful danced their way to my breasts and he planted his sweet mouth on my left boob. Jake moved his tongue in circles around my budding nipple.  
His face moved back up to my mouth and resumed its kisses. I weaved my hand back into his hair as his massaged my b-cups. I felt that bulge again stabbing my thigh again. Boner I think it was called. Ugh  
I moved my only available hand down to his center and gently rubbed his bulge. I felt a smile play on his lips as he kissed me.  
He momentarily paused to unbutton his jeans and slide them off. When his jeans were on the floor, he began to work on the button of my skinny jeans. This was a bit harder. He managed to pull the jeans down to my ankles and struggled to pull the off while I tried my best to be helpful and tug of my bra. Finally my pants and bra accompanied his jeans on the carpet.

He was kneeling above me. One of his knees rested between my thighs and his other, next to my outer left thigh. He looked so _sexy_ with his various distinguished muscles and his red and blue plaid boxers. But then there was me. Me in my black lace panties that I had gotten at Ross for less that $7.

He looked over my body. I was wondering what he was thinking, and as if he could read my mind, I heard his whisper, "beautiful."

I giggled. No one had ever called me beautiful. My brown blonde hair wasn't anything special and neither were my blue-green eyes. I had a cute ski-slope nose and thick eyelashes. But honestly, I felt like any other Californian girl.

He laid his warm body next to mine and wrapped his arm around me while his other played with the hem of my underwear. He kissed me sweetly. This was when I dared, ever so slowly, to move my hand down to his center. Chest to chest we lay there. Each had one hand in one another's hair while the other hand made it's way closer to it's destination.

I had never done this before, but I doubted if Jake felt the same way. He probably had a girlfriend when he was alive...that thought made my stomach churn, so I pushed it aside.

His hand was already down the front of my panties. I gasped. He had begun to move a slow finger into my vagina. He moved it around inside for a bit, still kissing me while his other hand crushed my breasts one at a time.

I was scared. My classmates always said that sex was supposed to feel good, but I was afraid it was going to hurt. Even though this wasn't _real_ sex, it was still pretty close, right?

He started to use his thumb to massage my clitorius. I was shivering. Not from the cold, no, I was shivering from _pleasure_.

Was this normal? Was I supposed to feel good? I felt a gasp escape my throat. Where had _that_ come from? Another gasp made its way out.

Something was happening to me that I couldn't understand. Jake had now put three fingers inside me and shoved them in deeper. It felt amazing.

He moved his thumb faster in small, tight circles, rubbing my soft spot above my lips. My hips started bucking forward. He kissed me harder just before I let out a yelp of pleasure and swallowed my screams.

That moment, when my hips were moving with a mind of their own and I wanted to scream Jake's name in encouragement, was one of the best moments I had ever had up to that point in my short 13 years of life.

Afterwards I had asked him what had happened to me and he said I had an _orgasm_ and I had reached _climax,_ which was the best part. Jake said that it felt good for him, too, even if it was said to last longer for a girl.

When my heart had stopped trying to break out of my rib cage and my breasts were again being massaged, I slid my hand down into the front of his boxers.

I moved my hand up and down his membrane, and I had no idea was I was doing. I just steadily increased the pace until he was moaning my name and squeezing my boobs harder.

"I think I'm going to _cum_!" He said. Jake was lucky in the fact that he could yell as loud as he wanted, and no one but me would hear him but me.

I kissed him to seal his words. He tried to return it, but I only ended up gulping down his moans.

I moved my hand as fast as I could, up and down, up and down. Then it got wet. His seed exploded into his boxers and I used it as a lubricant to moisten him.

Was this normal? We learned in class about _wet dreams_ but was this the same thing? Jake wasn't really considered living…

I pulled my hand out of his underwear and he released my sore breasts. All of a sudden I felt really tired. My hand hurt from pumping so hard and my eyelids felt droopy.

"Go to sleep," I heard Jake breathe.

"Mmmm," was all I could manage before I passed out. 


End file.
